Wrong Place
by BlackxValentine
Summary: Elizabeth Calvert has a lot on her mind following her Grandmother's story, but when she stumbles upon a sleeping treasure hunter, it puts some things in a better perspective for one of them. Complete


**Disclaimer: I don't own Titanic**

**God rest the souls of everyone who was aboard her all those years ago…**

* * *

><p>The night was young as the crew pulled the large mires on board the Keldysh, dripping water hitting the top of Lizzy's head as she watched in a kind of fascination. All the studying, all the money and person-hours put into finding one item that would possibly not be in the wreckage. Despite not knowing how to feel around Brock Lovett when they first met, after hearing her grandmothers story, seeing the change in the treasure hunters eyes.<p>

Lizzy began to feel a little sorry for the man; this man had spent three years of his life dedicated to finding something that will only bring him momentary pleasure. She remembered the words her mother spoke when they first arrived, just as Brock and Louis had left to let her and her grandmother finish putting up the pictures; Rose Calvert turned to her with a sad smile. Her deeply knowing eyes were already saying It clearing as she looked at her granddaughter.

"_He looks for treasure in the wrong place, Lizzy. Hopefully one day he can see that."_

Lizzy shook, rubbing her arms quickly as a chilly wind blew past her. The dripping water hitting her one more time before she was able to get back inside to the somewhat warm halls of the bunking areas, glancing down the halls to the left and right of her before starting forward, only walking a little more than ten steps before stopping abruptly.

A quiet snore drawing her attention to one of the rooms to her left, the door was slightly ajar; another sound coming from behind the wooden door. She started for it slowly, taking care to walk silently across the floor as she pushed open the door. Lizzy pushed the door open a few more inches, allowing her to see the source of the sound was the same man that plagued her thoughts.

The treasure hunter was leaning over a raggedy looking desk, his arms curled as his cheek rested in the crook of his arm. Pencils and notes scattered across the floor and beneath his arms as he shifted in his seat, but continued to sleep deeply. Lizzy questioned why she was even here, although it was not enough to stop her legs from taking her to the sleeping treasure hunter's side, her hand landing on his shoulder before shaking him gently, a small groan escaping as he shifted his head, lifting it a few inches from his arm.

It was clear to her from his half-closed eyes and blank expression that he was in-between, it was enough for Lizzy to take his slack shoulders and get him to stand. Walking him like a puppet on strings to the small cot that was against the opposite wall, the brownish green color standing out against the pure white walls. She managed to get him to lie down and have a blanket thrown over him; she was tucking the blankets closer that he roused from his semi-aware state.

Blinking his eyes slowly before realizing where he was and who was beside him, his dark gaze locking onto hers, she stood slightly frozen. A feeling of embarrassment coming over her as she stepped back, glancing back at the door that was still open before he finally found his voice. "Miss. Calvert, why are you in my room?"

"Well I-" Lizzy paused before smiling sheepishly, "I heard a noise when I was walking by and when I looked in, you were asleep at your desk." She gestured towards the object that still looked to be a cluttered mess of charts and notes, "I figured I'd at least put you to bed. If I left you at the desk, you'd just be sore in the morning."

Brock seemed to mull over the explanation, remembering that he was prone to falling asleep at his desk and the terrible ache it left in his body. Feeling grateful, smiling at the woman who made her way to the door, muttering something about letting him sleep. "Thank you, Miss. Calvert. You didn't have to do that."

"Call me Lizzy, and it's no trouble. I have to put my Nana to bed whenever she falls asleep in her chair at home." Brock liked her honesty, the tone of voice she used was tired like his but had a 'whatever' tone hidden that made him smile a little wider. Thinking of the old woman who had finished telling them her story, remembering the pat on the shoulder she had given him before going to bed herself.

It was not until Lizzy opened the door a little more that he woke from his reverie and jolted back to reality, stopping her before she left. "You know what, Lizzy?"

"What?" He looked at her for a minute or two before saying with a strong voice of admiration, "your Grandmother is lucky to have someone who cares for her so much."

Lizzy was slightly taken back by his words, wondering who this man in the room with her was; he certainly didn't seem like the person she'd met outside the helicopter. "Thank you, good night Mr. Lovett."

"Brock."

Just before the door shut, he could see a smile playing at her lips as she whispered, "Brock."

* * *

><p><strong>I have to say that I wish that there were more stories for Brock and Lizzy. There was just something between them that catches my eye every time I watch the film, something that makes me believe that there could be eventual romance between them.<strong>


End file.
